


Detention

by Sunecian



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abner isn't developed enough so it could be read as a reader-fic, Albus is suuuuuper manipulative so sorry, M/M, Not Beta Read, go me, i created two completely new spells to justify this nsfw shiiiiii, i tried my best lmao, teacher/student relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunecian/pseuds/Sunecian
Summary: "Mr. Zurbrigg, detention with me after supper tonight."Ah shit.--In which Dumbledore takes advantage of a young puppy crush, and Abner is only too willing to obey his teacher.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald (mentioned), Albus Dumbledore/Male OC, Albus Dumbledore/Male Reader, Albus Dumbledore/OC, Albus Dumbledore/Reader, Albus Dumbledore/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> This is explicit stuff about a teacher/student relationship. Albus does shady shit, and Abner is too caught up in his feelings to consider to ramifications of what he's doing. I may add another chapter if this is well-received, but I would like to proofread this first.  
> Thanks for reading! Enjoy

"Mr. Zurbrigg, detention with me after supper tonight."

_Ah shit._

The seventh-year made his way slowly towards the DADA classroom, despite the stairways' many shortcuts. No one he knew of, or anyone else knew of for that matter, had even gotten detention with Professor Dumbledore. But of course, it would be Abner's luck that made him the first. Hence the dirge-like shuffle to the classroom. 

When he walked in, he saw that Professor Dumbledore had laid out his notes on his teacher's desk, the doodles and scrawls barely visible. The teacher himself was leaned against the desk, as he usually is, with parchment in hand. _Suppose it's lines then._

"Mr. Zurbrigg, if you'll join me here, we'll discuss the issues we're facing." 

With a "yes professor," he approached him, and to his credit, only trembled slightly. Dumbledore held Abner’s latest notes, the half-finished head of Lestrange taking over most of it.

"It is my understanding that this is your first detention. I must congratulate you on making it this far without having one. And I suppose, as your first one is with me, this will likely be the last detention you serve."

"Professor, I apologize. I'm usually-"

"Usually quite attentive in class, yes I know. I've had you for seven years now, and while you do tend to daydream, you are consistently my best student. Which is why this," the notes were cast down with the others, " is simply unacceptable. Your notes are filled with drawings. Your homework is short and scattered. Your mind wanders off in my class. Tell me, what has happened in the past month that has made you so uninterested in completing your work?"

Professor Dumbledore pinned Abner with his gaze, the glimmer in his eyes searching for an answer. But he had none. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know why."

He raised an eyebrow, dissatisfied. Ab shifted, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. He glanced down at his notes, and one seemed to draw his eyes towards it. It was last week's notes, with barely two lines completed, while the rest of the parchment was dedicated to a sketch of Professor Dumbledore. It was quite good, actually; even on paper, Ab managed to capture that piercing stare he puts on him. Puts on everyone. 

_Though he usually stares at me._

_._

_Oh._

_That's why._

However red Ab’s cheeks were before, they were positively aflame now. Professor Dumbledore made a small "ah" sound, before picking up the offending notes. 

"Last Wednesday, I believe. Studying the subsets of the Imperius Curse. In particular the spell Pax Volens. Can you tell me what that spell does to the victim?"

"...It makes them more suggestible, more pliant to your will. It's less severe than the Imperious Curse, which is why it's technically still allowed. It ultimately can't make you do something you never wanted to do. Professor, " he tacked on lamely. 

"Very good Mr. Zurbrigg, yes it acts as more of a balming coat, which lowers the inhibitions of the victim. These notes were meant to be written about the feeling of being under this spell, and the steps used to break out of it."

He straightened up, going behind his desk to stack the rest of Ab’s notes to the side, leaving the middle clear. He walked back to the student, his wand now visible in his hand. 

"It seems to me, as you were more focused on drawing me - quite well I might add - you may be able to throw it off."

Abner paled, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Sir, we usually don't use spells on each other unless it's-"

"Student on student, yes. However, given your particular talent for Defence, it would be safe to assume you could throw off anyone's Pax Volens. In fact, I believe you will be able to do so _without_ your wand. You are still my best student, after all. This will be your detention with me: to learn to resist Pax Volens."

"... yes sir." The seventh-year laid his wand down with the notes on the desk, before facing him. The trick was to turn any request inside out, to attempt to do the total opposite. He braced himself, in body and in mind, to throw off Professor Dumbledore's words. 

"Ready?"

"Yes Professor."

" _Pax Volens._ "

And his eyes slipped shut. 

  
  
  


".......bner……..Abner…… Abner, time to wake up."

Abner opened his eyes, feeling a rush of euphoria for doing so. Professor Dumbledore smiled at the student, setting his wand down before coming closer. It was hard for Ab to focus on anything else but him, anything else slipped away. All Abner could process was his face, his chest, his hand that came up to rest on Ab’s forehead, and the coolness of it. The student smiled and leaned into the touch. 

"Oh Abner, my boy, you are my best student. You're so attentive, and yet you barely notice the slightest praise thrown your way. You bury any insults, and negative connotation, deep within you, and ignore any redeeming qualities you possess."

The seventh-year blinked, his smile turning confused as Dumbledore sighed heavily and retreated. "Sir?"

"Come here."

Abner advanced, beaming at the pride of following him. Of following his words. Of obeying--

His eyebrows furrowed, a crease appearing as Ab’s mind seems to cut through the rosy blanket. He backed away, bumping into the desk as he leaned away. In response, Ab’s stomach began to churn as his vision once more tunneled into Professor Dumbledore. He nearly retched, a migraine forming, and he quickly closed the distance between teacher and student. 

Almost immediately after doing so, all pain disappeared as quickly as it came. Abner began to groan, half-formed apologies for leaving the professor’s side dripping from his lips. Dumblerdore put his hands on Ab’s cheeks, and faced him towards himself. 

"Abner, that was so well done. It's alright, you're alright. My boy, you are so skillful. Throwing me off, even for a little bit, would normally take hours, and yet you nearly broke the spell."

"-'m sorry, sir, please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, I'm sorry-"

"Hush, my boy." Abner stilled, the euphoria trickling into his veins as Dumbledore spoke. "Now that I know you can throw it off if you apply yourself, I must apply myself to extend your capabilities. Stay here."

He walked back towards his desk and picked up the drawing of himself. He traced the outline with his finger, pausing at the eyes and mouth, where Ab spent most of his time perfecting. 

"Now Abner, I often have students who wear their hearts on their sleeves, willing to confront their emotions without the safety of privacy. I had thought that perhaps you were not one of them. I had thought that you preferred to keep your heart locked away, and your mind in the forefront. Now I see that you do neither." He once again leaned back onto his desk, the familiar twinkle in his eyes glinting at the student. 

"You would rather give your heart wholly to the one who you idolise."

Ice entered Abner’s veins. His breath quickened, and his mind began to draw up plans of escape. _If I ignore him- if I lie- he wouldn't be disgusted- Merlin, he could kick me out-! I don't want to go- I'm sorry, I-_ "Don't want to go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't want to go. Please." Hot tears tracked down the boy’s face as his hands fisted his uniform. Abner’s head snapped down, ashamed and embarrassed and _angry, so angry_ _that Professor Dumbledore would do this, would mock my crush and put me under this horrible judging spell-_

"Oh my boy, it's alright. There is nothing I will do to hurt you. Dry your eyes, Abner, and face me." His voice cut in, and as the seventh-year wipe at his face he braved a look at the professor. He still had an easy smile, the twinkle in his eyes no less diminished. 

"Abner, please know that I will never expel you for anything of this sort. In fact," he beckoned the boy towards him with a hand, placing it on Ab’s chest when he shuffled close enough, "this makes the next part of detention easier for me."

The twinkle turned into a harder glint, as Dumbledore seemed to reach into his mind once again. His hand trailed from Ab’s chest to the back of his neck, pushing him down. Abner followed hesitantly, allowed the spell to send daggers into his sides as he attempted to resist. Ab ended up with his stomach pressed into Dumbledore’s legs (that were leveled by a stool he brought over wandlessly), and his head and arms hanging over the side. The student didn't dare speak, his unsteady breaths betraying his nervousness. 

"Perhaps what would help you focus in my classes is a stricter hand. I had thought you diligent enough to handle yourself in the past, but now I see that you live," his hand passed down Ab’s back to his thighs, "and die for praise. And discipline." The professor’s hand rose again, petting his back before being placed on his arse. Humiliation burned his cheeks, though the valium of obedience still kept him still. "I believe we will start with 20. Is that alright, Abner?" 

Abner’s agreement had left his lips before he even registered his words. 

“Can you count for me?” _Can I break this spell?_

“Yes sir.” He murmured, still quite shocked at the turn of the situation. Professor Dumbledore smiled, and leaned in to whisper into Ab’s ear.

“If you truly cannot throw me off, say _Cludo_ , okay? Say it right now.”

“ _Cludo_.”

“Very good. Now.” A sudden slap resounded in the classroom as Abner jerked forward. Professor Dumbledore’s hand stayed in the air, waiting for Ab’s choked breaths to even out.

“Count for me, Abner.”

“O-one, sir.” _Dammit, break this, I don’t want to do it, the humiliation-_

Another smack and Abner buckled into the professor’s lap, tears running down his face from mortification.

“Two! Sir!”

  
  
  
  


Dumbledore ended up smacking Abner 30 times, each extra time for when Abner became too incoherent to count. After 10 slaps, the professor had unbuckled Abner’s uniform, letting the last 20 slaps hit bare skin. After 30 smacks, Abner still couldn’t break the spell.

“Abner my boy, where has your fighting gone? 10 minutes ago you nearly escaped the spell.”

The professor drew the student up, the unbuckled trousers bunching under him and Abner clutched at them. Abner’s face shone with tears, though he had stopped crying after 15 smacks. Dumbledore wiped them away, letting Abner’s hands rise up to clutch at his chest. When he looked into Abner’s mind, he saw the burning humiliation, and a tinge of arousal.

“Abner. Look at me.” Immediately those pale eyes shot to his, red-rimmed and glassy. His gaze was still the unfocused haze of a thrall. Albus tutted.

“Try to throw me off as I give you this command.” If Abner was truly stuck in this, the detention would have been a failure. He reached for Abner’s wand, and pressed it into the student’s hand.

“Cast _Crucio_ on me. I’ve given you pain, now give me pain.”

Abner stood stock still, wrestling with the order as his eyes flickered from Dumbledore’s eyes, to where the wand poked into his chest. He began to crumple into himself, before slowly and deliberately setting the wand back on the desk. And with that, the spell was broken.

Professor Dumbledore couldn’t contain his grin, the pride for his student overwhelming him as he wrapped his arms around Abner. 

“Fantastic. Absolutely marvelous, my boy. You did so well.” Abner melted into the embrace, burying his face into the crook of Dumbledore’s neck. The professor felt the boy shift, letting his legs splay on either side of Dumbledore’s leg. From that, he noticed a wetness staining his trousers, and a bulge pressing into his thigh. _Aha._

He rubbed Ab’s bottom, feeling more than hearing him whimper, before gently pushing the student back. He cupped Ab’s face once again and set his warmest gaze on him.

“Yes, you did very well. I believe you deserve something, don’t you? It’s alright, my boy, it’s alright...” He spoke as calmly as he could while his hand guided Abner’s hips to move, dragging the boy’s cock across his thigh. Abner shuddered, the pleasure streaking through the ache in his arse.

He didn’t need much prompting, hips jerking back and forth as he grinded into his professor’s thigh, his red arse on clear display. Dumbledore’s hand went to his neck to steady him while the other cupped his bottom. He shoved the student’s trousers even further down, letting them fall off into a heap on the ground. Abner’s feet were perched on the stool Dumbledore’s own were resting on, arching up so that Abner’s could reach his thigh.

Abner didn’t know where to put his hands, clutching at the professor’s chest in one moment and gripping his shoulders the next. He whined at the lack of friction, and reached down to grasp himself, only for Dumbledore to bat his hand away.

“I don’t think you need your hands, Abner. I know you can do this yourself.”

“P-please, Professor, I just need-”

“I think right now you can call me Albus, if you’d like.” he hummed, slightly tapping Abner’s arse.

“Please sir, A-Albus, I need your haa-” Abner cut himself off with a groan as he attempted a different angle, hips stuttering as his dick leaked slick. His arse stuck out further as Abner tried to use his own stomach for friction, though the professor could tell it wasn't successful. Albus suppressed his chuckle at the antics, before giving Abner a reprieve. He set Abner back on his knee, and wrapped his hands on his thigh, so that his thumbs were caging Abner’s cock. He leaned once more to whisper in his student’s ear.

“I’m going to want a favour, but I will do this for you. Go ahead, my boy, it’s alright.” Abner sighed out as his hands finally rested on Albus’ chest, hips gaining a rhythm as little noises slip out of his mouth.

“Please, yes, thank you, Albus-sir, ah” was on repeat until Abner buried his face into Albus’ neck, tearing into his lips. Soon enough Albus felt his lips and tongue on his neck, not biting or kissing, but _panting_ , soft little groans against his pulse. He felt himself straining against his trousers, but ignored himself. That will come later, another hour of detention perhaps.

“You’re nearly finished aren’t you, Abner? Come on, you can do it, go ahead, come on…” he whispered out praise after praise until Abner arched back, rutting into Albus’s thumbs and thighs as ropes of cum splattered on Albus’ vest and trousers. Albus hummed against as his student sagged against him, cock trapped still in his hands.

“Ah, very good! Marvelous, my dear boy. Oh Abner, you did so well.” He wasn’t as fit as he used to be in his youth, but he was strong enough to carry Abner with him to his plush chair, sinking down and bringing the boy’s knees around his waist. He kept one of his hands on Abner’s back, while the other unbuckled his own trousers, bringing out his own cock and idly palming it. “Now, I believe I mentioned wanting a favour.”

Abner brought his head up from Albus’ neck, lips wet and eyes bright. He gazed down at Albus’ cock, seeming so transfixed by it that Albus wondered if the _Pax Volens_ was still in effect. He reached for his wand to dispel any magic, but faltered when he saw Abner’s gaze. Rather than the dreamy cloudy gaze he held when he was fighting the spell, Abner stared with his usual sharp intensity. Right at his cock. Albus wouldn’t lie, that made his cock jump up with arousal.

The seventh-year slinked to the ground, eyes glancing up to Albus’ own blues before refocusing on his crotch. Albus ran his fingers through Abner’s hair , tugging until the boy’s lips met the tip. Abner licked his lips, wetting the tip of the cock as well.

“Atta boy, my Abner, there you go.” Albus coaxed the boy to fit his mouth over the velvet tip, head falling back as he basked in the sensation. Either Abner was a quick learner, or he’s had practice. Albus, quite selfishly, hoped it was the former. It would be so pleasing to him to know he was Abner’s first.

Abner fisted what he couldn’t fit, tongue lolling out as he worked over Albus’ cock. Albus went from muttering praises to groaning, fingers tangling into his student’s hair. Albus would lie to say he didn’t plan something of this nature, but never did he think his student would do _this_ without the _Pax Volens_. Not that Albus would leave Abner floundering under the spell for too long; that would negate all of his efforts.

Yes, Albus had managed every detail of his encounters with his best student, ever since he saw that familiar yet confounding sharpness in Abner’s eyes. In his face. In his _magic_ . It spoke so softly, so serenely, of Gellert, that Albus only forced himself to call the boy Abner after the magic was used to “ _Episkey!_ ” Newt’s mangled finger during a duel class. Gellert wouldn’t have wasted his precious magic.

So Albus drew a shuddering line between student and former lover, and tiptoed with the utmost precision. He contoured himself to Abner, pushed the student to excel in his class, and endeared the boy to him personally. Hushed praises, light touches, and glimmering eyes, all to draw Abner to him. And this detention, he succeeded.

Albus drew back to the present as he felt a hand cup his balls, Abner’s flush faded and his eyes sparkling with knowledge. The little upstart tried to smirk around Albus’ weight on his tongue, and then-

_Ah._

_Ah!_

A light graze of teeth, against the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. Albus groaned out Abner’s name, and held the boy’s head to him as he spent himself. Abner choked, but swallowed what he could, hands going up to scratch soothingly at the professor’s chest and middle. That _couldn’t_ have been beginner’s luck.

When his student drew back, fingers (somehow with elegance) wiping up what spilled over back into his mouth, Albus studied his mind. Abner seemed profoundly confused, but eager and more than a little aroused. He also sensed the fear in his student, the paranoia of being caught, or _worse_ , all of this somehow being a ploy.

Determination steadied his grip, as Albus brought the boy up to sit on the edge of the desk, Abner now looking down at the professor. “Well, _that_ deserves some high marks, my boy.” He could hear his own hoarseness, and when Abner laughed his was hoarser. Albus stood, splaying his large hands against Ab’s chest, pushing away the cloak still wrapped around him. In return, his student worked his sweater over his head, loosening the tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Just then, the door to the classroom emitted a ring, signalling someone’s approach. Abner froze, and Albus flicked his hand to redress them both. With everything in place, the professor led Ab to the front of the desk, kissing his forehead. Albus rested his hand on his student’s throat, thumb over his pulse.

“I believe you’ll need another detention after this, you seem to still need some guidance. Meet me at the same time next week, and we’ll further the lesson.” Abner rolled his eyes, but nodded and reached for his book-bag. “Thanks professor,” his voice was already stronger, but anyone could tell his throat was sore, “I’ll try harder in classes.”

“Be sure that you do. Good night, Mr. Zurbrigg.”

“Good night, Professor.”

The boy slipped out, bidding a polite hello to Professor Merrythought as he left for his dorm. Albus sighed, glancing at the strewn notes before engaging Merrythought.

Only 7 more days. Until Abner is his once again.


End file.
